Chase Requesting W 9: Fill & Download for Free

Unfortunately, your only option is to either comply or lose those accounts. There is really nothing else you can do.Every bank has the absolute right — in fact, duty — to positively identify each and every customer. The W-9 is for confirmation of SSN, which is a requirement. Without a verifiable taxpayer identification number, it's prohibited to maintain a bank account. An SSA-89 simply authorizes the Social Security Administration to verify the SSN you give is indeed accurate.If your husband doesn't have a SSN, it's unlikely he is a legal permanent resident. Issuance of a SSN is part of the USCIS green card process.If you do not or cannot comply with Chase’s request, they will close your accounts. To avoid that you could ask them to remove your husband from the accounts.

My mentor Luis Alvarez was given the responsibility of measuring the energy of the Hiroshima explosion. He was not in the airplane that carried the bomb, but in a “chase plane” that followed closely. When the bomb was dropped, he threw out an instrument on a small parachute that measured the intensity of the blast and would radio it back to his plane. Then his plane and the more famous Enola Gay (which carried the bomb) made their sharp turns and headed away. A few minutes later (the bomb was dropped on a parachute) the blast wave hit his device and radioed the information to him. Soon afterwards the blast wave hit the Alvarez plane, but it was much weaker because they had flown quite far by the time the bomb exploded and destroyed the city and people of Hiroshima.Alvarez took the data and calculated that the energy of the explosion was 13 kilotons. He gave this information to the military, who informed President Truman. The next day Truman announced the dropping of the bomb to a startled world. He mistakenly said that the energy of the blast was equivalent to 20 kilotons of TNT. Apparently he confused the Hiroshima number with the one from the test bomb at Alamogordo New Mexico which had preceded it. These days the value measured by Alvarez, 13 kilotons TNT equivalent, is the one accepted by scientists and historians (although you will occasionally still see the 20 kiloton figure).Alvarez also built the measurement device for the Nagasaki bomb, but he didn’t fly over Japan for that bomb; someone else was assigned to the chase plane to drop the Alvarez instrument. But Alvarez decided to do something astonishing and quite beyond the rules. He recalled that he personally knew a physicist working at the University of Tokyo, Ryokichi Sagane. He wrote a letter to Sagane, saying: “As scientists, we deplore the use to which a beautiful discovery has been put, but we can assure you that unless Japan surrenders at once, this rain of atomic bombs will increase manyfold in fury.” The letter was edited by two colleagues, Bob Serber and Phil Morrison.Alvarez knew that with the dropping of the bomb on Nagasaki, the US had no more atomic bombs left. The entire inventory had been three. One was tested at Alamogordo (a plutonium bomb), one had destroyed Hiroshima (a uranium bomb) and the third was to have destroyed Nagasaki by the time the military got the note. There was not enough enriched uranium left to make another Hiroshima type bomb, but plutonium was being produced in nuclear reactors, and there might be another plutonium bomb within a month or two. Alvarez didn’t mention these facts, since they might have led the Japanese to delay their surrender.The message was dropped along with the measurement instrument by parachute over Nagasaki, and it was recovered by the Japanese military. It was not given to Sagane; he saw it only after the war had ended.Alvarez liked to think that maybe his letter had played a role in the rapidity of the Japanese surrender.I first heard this story from Alvarez himself. He later wrote it up in his autobiography, “Alvarez: Adventures of a Physicist ”. That book has lots of additional and fascinating details about World War II.I attach an image of the letter from Alvarez to Sagane dated August 9, 1945. Originally it did not include his signature, but at the request of historians, he finally signed it in 1949.Here is a transcript:Headquarters, Atomic Bomb CommandAugust, 1945To: Prof. R. SaganeFrom: Three of your former scientific colleagues during your stay in the United States.We are sending this as a personal message to urge that you use your influence as a reputable nuclear physicist, to convince the Japanese General Staff of the terrible consequences which will be suffered by your people if you continue in this war.You have known for several years that an atomic bomb could be built if a nation were willing to pay the enormous cost of preparing the necessary material. Now that you have seen that we have constructed the production plants, there can be no doubt in your mind that all the output of these factories, working 24 hours a day, will be exploded on your homeland.Within the space of three weeks, we have proof-fired one bomb in the American desert, exploded one in Hiroshima, and fired the third this morning.We implore you to confirm these facts to your leaders, and to do your utmost to stop the destruction and waste of life which can only result in the total annihilation of all your cities, if continued. As scientists, we deplore the use to which a beautiful discovery has been put, but we can assure you that unless Japan surrenders at once, this rain of atomic bombs will increase manyfold in fury.To my friend SaganeWith best regards fromLuis W. AlvarezFinally signed Dec 22, 1949

It was probably the 4th date my then-boyfriend and I (I’ll call him J) has been on. We had been dating about a month and were completely inseparable. I’d stayed the night at his apartment the night before, playing card games with him and his two roommates until like 2am. We chose to sleep in a bit (around 9:30am)In the morning, he offered to take me to an early lunch, a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant in our small town. It was a Coney Island and had been one for longer than I’ve been alive, though it’s changed hands a few times (and actually went out of business a few weeks ago). I had never eaten there, as I’m not the biggest fan of hot dogs. But J was excited about taking me there, as it was relatively cheap but delicious food.Parking was relatively easy as it was a beautiful day. The restaurant was located downtown, so your options were one of the three parking spots behind the building, or the parallel parking on Main Street directly in front of the establishment. Since Main Street was busy, we chose the rear.In doing so, you go in through their back door, so you pass by the kitchen door as well as the small hip door to the “waitress area”. The entire establishment was small, but I took it in with a contemplative eye, as I’m a trained chef and have found that often, the real gems are more outdated (it seems the good places actually value employees and great food over wowing guests with aesthetics). There were 4 booths and 6 two person tables, none of which were occupied. The waitress area was behind a small bar, and behind that was an open window into the small kitchen.J and I chose to sit at the bar, the easier to look at the old newspaper clippings under the glass on the bar. The waitress greeted us, took our order, and handed the ticket through the window to the cook. He had asked for a traditional coney dog, I had requested a dog with cheese sauce, and both with fries. We had also ordered fountain drinks.The waitress handed us our cups and directed us to the self serve soda machine, letting us know our meal would be done shortly. We chatted with the waitress as our food cooked, the conversation polite and congenial. When our food came (The waitress never even had to lift a foot; she twisted to grab the baskets from the window, then turned and set it on the bar counter in front of us), I raised a brow and turned to J, the waitress having left to see to an older gentleman who had walked in the door.“Did your food look like this last time you were here?” I hissed quietly, casting a furtive glance around the restaurant.“Nope,” he said, swallowing his bite of food. “Tastes a lot worse too”.I poked at my basket of food. Crinkle cut fries, underdone and not even seasoned with salt; truly a naked potato. A sad looking hot dog bun with a small dog on it, and canned cheese sauce. I looked at J again. ““This is literally right out of the bags and can from GFS”, I whispered, naming the local restaurant supply store in our town. ““They heated up the cheese, threw the hot dogs in boiling water, and served it to us.”He nodded dismally. ““Yeah, it’s definitely not what it was,” he said sadly. “I was really looking forward to the koegel’s hot dogs they had last time.” We ate our food in relative silence, both rather let down by the meal.When finished, the waitress dropped our check and disappeared for a moment. I dumped our empty papers into the trash and set the baskets on the lid while J laid. He left slightly before me, to start the car and bring it around for me. I had almost made it to the back door when the waitress flagged me down.W: ““Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!!”Me: -turns, curious to see if she was talking to me- “yes?”W: ““is that your husband?” -points to where J is getting into his car, oblivious-Me: -completely baffled at this point by her hostile demeanor- ““no, he’s my boyfriend. Does it matter?”W: -angrily waving the receipt in my face- ““you should know, he doesn’t tip!”Me: -perturbed at this point because I’m not the one who paid- “I’m sorry?”W: “he left me $1.50 as a tip! Seriously?! Girl, you need to find yourself a different man if he’s only tipping $1.50.”Me: -knowing full well that he always tips a minimum of 15% and that our meal, even with drinks, was probably less than $14- “I’m not sure what you want me to do….”W: ““do you have money? You shouldn’t have to use it to tip me but wtf am I supposed to do with $1.50?! I only make $3.50 an hour, and I just lost a good 45 minutes there while you all ate! I took good care of you, I deserve more than this.”Me: -sees J pulling up, attempts a getaway- ““I’m sorry, but I don’t have my purse on me as this was a date.”W: ““well i just thought I’d let you know that you deserve better than him. If a guy can’t even tip, what other awful things is he capable of?” -storms back into the restaurant, still gnashing her teeth that we didn’t tip her for her service.-I get into the car, perplexed, bewildered and angry. I tell J about the situation and he shakes his head in confusion, saying “I honestly didn’t even have to tip her. We could get the same type of service at any fast food restaurant and don’t tip there. I mean, literally all she did was ring up our food, hand it to us, and take my payment.” To this day, we are still confused why a waitress chased me out the door to demand a better tip from the person who didn’t pay the bill in the first place.P.S. I would like it noted that, as someone who has spent half my life in hospitality, I tend to tip 20% at least, unless my service has truly been awful. Even then, minimum is 10%. J typically stays between 15%-20%. We both tip where called for; we just didn’t think that situation was one of them, as we did 80% of the work ourselves.